


Non-violent solutions

by SheenaWilde



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Dream Sex, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheenaWilde/pseuds/SheenaWilde
Summary: Ever since he moved to Emprise du Lion to help the Red Templars, Imshael has been busy. To add to that, he also has to deal with a certain annoying chevalier who is set on stopping his plans and destroying him. Imshael now has to find a way to deal with him.
Relationships: Michel de Chevin/Imshael
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	Non-violent solutions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThirstyForRed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirstyForRed/gifts).



Imshael’s day has started out normal enough. He went down to the holding cells to monitor the progress of the giants first – they are prone to dying much faster than the humans, so he likes checking on them first thing in the morning. If one expires during the night, he can send word to the Emerald Graves to fetch another that day, and minimal time is be wasted. Then he made his regular rounds amongst the humans, too, checking on the most advanced ones first, those who were less human and more beast by now, then progressing to those in the beginning stages.

It is in the afternoon, after the first patrol comes back, that a note is delivered to him by an anxious looking scout. The first glance at the report makes him sigh in frustration. It’s the chevalier again, causing him trouble. Michel was spotted by patrol, lurking around the mines and trying to sneak to the prisoners. To get information or to free them is unclear, as he vanished before the patrol could capture him, but Imshael isn’t happy. But at the moment, there is nothing he can do about it – sending Red Templars to deal with Michel would be so boring, and a face-to-face confrontation would be too early. After all, Michel would be of no use to him dead. He needs to find a creative way to deal with the chevalier, and for that, he needs more information.

A few days later the same nervous-looking scout reports to him personally, and now Imshael is properly pissed.

“It’s the prisoners in the mines, sir” the scout explains. “The chevalier from Sahrnia freed a load of them during the night. He must have known our patrol schedule, sir, as the prisoners escaped when they were out of sight.”

“Of course he does” Imshael says, grinding his teeth in frustration. “The little shit was scouting last time. Tell the Knight-Captain that we need more frequent patrols. Take the men from the Keep’s defense if needed. Suledin doesn’t need so many guards, anyway.”

“Right away, sir” the scout bows, then practically flees from Imshael’s presence, visibly relieved.

Imshael rolls his eyes at that. He is aware that the more human soldiers around the Keep are nervous around him, but most of them are soldiers – good at hiding it. Not this one, though. It amused him at first, but now it’s starting to get annoying.

The doubled patrols do an adequate job of preventing another escape during the next few days, but Imshael knows it’s merely a question of time that Michel gets another great idea or discovers a new weak point in their system. Humans have a nice idiom for it - ‘hero complex’. Imshael thinks it’s really fitting, as he watches Michel help the people of Sahrnia with mundane tasks during the day that he has no business doing. Then he stands watch at the road towards Suledin Keep all night, before finally going to sleep when the sun rises and the village awakes. It’s dull and predictable, but at least Imshael can keep his eyes on him – and it also shows that Michel, at least temporarily, has given up on freeing prisoners.

Imshael goes as close as he dares to Michel without risking being noticed. He needs proximity for his powers to work, for him to see into Michel’s desires. There is only so much his powers can do, and he has already invested so much of himself into his pet projects at the Keep – it’s safer to have some distance between them when the chevalier is awake.

When he is asleep, however, it’s different. Humans are so fond of sleep and Michel has proven to be no different. So Imshael enters Michel’s dreams easily and walks in them unnoticed, watching the chevalier’s wants and needs unfold around them. Some are so mundane – Michel back in Val Royeaux, still the Champion, following Celene around; Michel in a pub with the other chevaliers, getting drunk; or Michel and some pretty servant girl sneaking around the palace to have some fun. The usual mortal stuff, nothing surprising to Imshael. But then, one time suddenly Imshael sees himself appear. His interest is piqued immediately – it wouldn’t be unusual if it was anyone else, but Michel has been so resistant to him, Imshael is genuinely surprised. Pleased, of course, but surprised.

The image Michel’s mind created of him is even more surprising – he looks the way he does now, but he is dressed for the Orlesian court in a fine silk shirt with an embroidered waistcoat over it, and he is _human_. They are in some kind of garden, which probably belongs to one of the royal palaces of Orlais, and his dream version is standing under an arbor covered in vine and flowers, while Michel is walking towards him. The picture is so romantic, Imshael could laugh. But he has to focus on the scene, not the setting of Michel’s dream world, so he circles closer, watching.

Then Michel marches up to dream-Imshael, wraps his arms around his waist and kisses him.

Imshael is standing there, his mouth agape in shock as he is watching the pair. He came expecting the same boring dreams he has seen so far, not this. But, well… He wanted to find something he can use, and this is certainly useful, if nothing else.

Michel pulls away from dream-Imshael.

“You’re late” dream-Imshael mumbles, eyebrows raised.

“I know, sorry” Michel says apologetically. “I thought the Empress was never going to finish that meeting.”

“Well, we have all night. You can try and make up for it” dream-Imshael grins with a coy expression.

“I definitely will” Michel smiles at that and rushes forward to kiss dream-Imshael again.

Imshael is watching the scene with amusement, curious as to how far the chevalier’s mind will carry them, but then, disappointingly, the dream ends abruptly as Michel wakes up. Imshael leaves the Fade with a pang of disappointment – he has never seen that side of the Michel for sure – but at least now he has something he can use against the chevalier. He returns to Suledin Keep with thoughts of how to best exploit this new knowledge.

Paperwork. He is a powerful spirit and he is doing paperwork for humans. The things he does for some meals astonishes even himself. With a shake of his head, he puts the letter he has just finished writing to the side together with the one he is responding to. For how much these Red Templars are not supposed to be like their old-fashioned counterparts, they do share the enthusiasm for written reports. Imshael’s not sure he would go through the troubles of becoming part of this operation again if he knew he’d be preparing paperwork for humans.

The next paper he takes into his hands is a report of Sahrnia and it mentions Michel again. Imshael smiles – finally, something exciting. For the past few days, he’s been considering what to do with the nosy chevalier and the revelation, but so far, he didn’t have any opportunity he has deemed good enough. But now, as he looks out of the tent at the starry night, with the reports of Michel now lurking around the caravans transporting his giants… Why not give Michel something memorable to dream about? Perhaps that will take his mind off the Red Templar’s business.

Leaning back in his chair, Imshael closes his eyes and searches for Michel’s mind in the Fade. At this point, he is so familiar with the human that he shines like a beacon to him, and he finds Michel with ease.

His dream is so mundane, Imshael could laugh. He is back in Orlais in court, training with his fellow chevaliers. Michel and a fellow chevalier are sparring with training swords, dressed lightly under the hot summer sun. Both men are in loose white shirts, sweat staining the fabric dark under the armpits and the damp fabric clings to their backs. Usually Imshael would be disgusted by such mortal bodily functions, but now he finds it appealing – first of all, the sweat is not real but what Michel thinks should be there, and second of all, the shirt reveals an elegant V-shape of the chevalier’s chest and accentuates his waist. And who would he be if he can’t appreciate the beauty he sees?

For now, Imshael decides to linger in the background and observe, let Michel play a little and change the scenery on his own accord. He’ll step in in time to direct the dream to where he wants, but he wants to do it seamlessly. In the meantime, he watches the sparring from the shade of a tree and notes the mistakes the humans are making. Imshael wonders if the scene is from a memory, or simply what Michel yearns for. Normalcy.

As it is usually the case with dreams, it doesn’t take long for the scene to change. Michel starts walking away from the ring and his sweaty sparring clothes change to court wear mid-step, complete with a mask. Shame, Imshael thinks to himself as he follows Michel. He really warmed up to that shirt. The garden around them transitions into one of the many corridors of the royal palace. Imshael, not able to predict where this is going, quickly changes into the same outfit Michel’s dream version of him was wearing, and quickens his pace to catch up to him. It is time to act.

Michel rounds a corner and Imshael is on his heals, stopping him with a hand on his back. Michel whips around in surprise, which brings them very close – which was the goal, really, but Imshael has planned on being more elaborate about it – and Michel blinks at him in surprise. Imshael slides his hand down to the small of the chevalier’s back and smiles at him.

“Why, dear, who else did you expect?”

“No one” Michel answers smiling back and puts his hands on Imshael’s shoulders. “But you’re a pleasant surprise.”

“I’d hope so” Imshael murmurs, and he couldn’t continue if he wanted to, because Michel’s lips are already on his own in a warm kiss.

Good, Imshael thinks as he lets himself be kissed, no nudging necessary. His work is always easier when the victim is willing. Enthusiastic, really, he amends as he is pushed against the wall with Michel’s whole body flush against him. He can feel the whole of Michel’s body, soft, warm and _interested_ as they are pressed together. _Good_. He pulls Michel’s hips closer, eliciting a groan from him. Then Michel’s lips are on his neck, wet and hot on his skin, as they are making a trail along his collarbone, and Imshael could just lean back and enjoy the sensation, let Michel do whatever he wants to him.

But everything has a time and place, he reminds himself, and now is not about his own pleasures. Not this way, at least. So with his fingers gripping tightly at Michel’s hips, he turns them around and looks into those captivating gray eyes. His hand goes to Michel’s crotch and unties the laces of his pants, making Michel gasp.

“You can’t- Not here-!” he tries to protest but his soul isn’t really in it.

“Not here?” Imshael purrs as he leans to Michel’s ear, his hand pausing. “Where then?”

“Ah, my room?” Michel offers, and it’s as unimaginative as a soldier should be.

Imshael rolls his eyes and bends the Fade around them to his will, transitioning them from the palace to small grassy clearing in the middle of a forest, with a circle of stones etched with runes in the middle. Michel gasps as he sees it, recognition flashing in his eyes, but Imshael doesn’t give him time to think but gently tugs at him, pulling him downwards until he has Michel flat on his back in the lush grass, his pale visage a stark contrast against the dark green.

Imshael presses a kiss to his lips, one to his neck and finally his chest, then leans back and drags the pants off him along with his underwear. Any objections Michel might have had before are now gone as he is watching Imshael with lust-filled eyes, his hands gripping at the grass. Imshael gives him a smirk, then leans down to press a kiss against the inside of Michel’s pale thighs. This draws a delightful shaky sigh out of the chevalier, which Imshael notes with a pleased smile, then proceeds to move up to kiss his lips again as his fingertips brush just barely against Michel’s cock.

“Would you like me to do something about this, Michel?” he whispers against the chevalier’s lips. “Do you want me to touch you? To make you come?”

Michel can barely whimper in response as Imshael wraps his fingers delicately around his cock to tease him. His face has flushed an adorable shade of pink, Imshael notes, as Michel throws his head back and closes his eyes at the gentle grip.

“Oh, by the Maker, just-” Michel breathes, and thrusts his hips upwards, desperate for more. “Please, just do something!”

Imshael grins at that and slowly starts stroking Michel. He is going to give the chevalier what he wants, eventually, but at his own pace.

“And what is it that you want me to do, exactly?” Imshael asks, leaning to Michel’s ear and pecks at the shell. He now has a firm grip of Michel’s cock but keeps his movement slow and steady for now, watching the mess the human is becoming at his hands.

“This- You- Faster-!” Michel barely manages to get the words out – he is panting heavily as he fucks into Imshael’s hand.

Imshael lets him and picks up his pace, too, knowing he can’t tease the man for much longer anyway. He leans to Michel’s neck and bites down hard enough to leave to a mark – it looks so _good_ on the chevalier, such a shame they’re only in the Fade and he won’t be able to see it on him in the waking world. 

Michel’s movements are getting more frantic, signaling to Imshael that he is getting close to finish – so Imshael fastens his pace and strokes his thumb over the head of Michel’s cock.

“Come for me, my dear Michel” Imshael purrs against his skin, nuzzling and pressing kisses against the human’s neck, driving him over the edge.

Michel’s body tenses under him for a few seconds as he comes, then collapses back onto the ground. Imshael is watching his face – Michel’s eyes are still closed, his cheeks flushed, and his breathing ragged. Imshael strokes his face gently, then pulls away and stands up.

“What- Where are you going?” Michel opens his eyes and pushes himself up to his elbows, looking at Imshael with confusion.

“I have some things to do. I’m a busy man, you see” he smiles at the chevalier.

“But I- You didn’t-” Michel looks after him with a mix of emotions on his face as he gestures towards Imshael’s groin.

“There’s always a next time, my dear chevalier” Imshael grins at him as he leaves the man lying on the grass and exits the dream.

Michel wakes up, panting, sweaty and aroused in his shelter in Sahrnia. He sits up, staring ahead of himself as he thinks back on his dream. His conflicting thoughts are so loud, Imshael can feel them all the way in his makeshift office in Suledin Keep. Humans. They do like to feel sorry for themselves. 

Imshael opens his eyes and smiles over a job well done, then returns to his paperwork.

It looks like Imshael has managed to successfully confuse Michel, as there is no word of him in the reports in the following days. Imshael doesn’t like being bored, but between the Red Templars and the giants, he is kept busy, fed and entertained. And if he gets bored, the prisoners are always there to amuse him.

Almost two weeks pass before Michel is mentioned again in the reports beside the usual ‘no activity from the chevalier’. Michel is now stalking the caravans transporting the giants. He hasn’t exactly done anything yet, but he was sighted following the transports almost to the bottom of the mountain, seen scouting the trails when no one is there, and he has started lurking around the Keep again. Imshael is not happy, but he knew he’ll have to deal with Michel again soon. He _wants_ to deal with Michel, really, but he isn’t one to rush things. The longer the prey is in the trap, the sweeter the game is. But Imshael knows that this report means he has to focus on the chevalier again, because Michel is planning something.

As he has suspected, in just a few days, Michel acts. The chevalier has actually managed to set a trap for their next caravan – they lost a whole team and two giants to a rockfall in a valley orchestrated by Michel. Imshael is seething when he hears it – this was, by far, the worst of Michel’s sabotage, and he has to put a stop to it now. He slams his pen and writing board down on a crate, then all but storms out of the Keep. He asks the first patrol he sees about the whereabouts of the chevalier – he could locate him on his own, but he has the men, so he doesn’t have to.

Once he is nearing the area where Michel should be, he slows down and forces himself to calm down. As nice as it would be to take his anger out on the nosy chevalier, that would achieve nothing else than antagonizing him further. What he needs now is to convince Michel to mind his own business, or at least give him something other than the Suledin Keep’s operations to focus on.

He finds Michel near where the last patrol has seen him – near the frozen waterfall, keeping a watch at Alphonse’s passage to keep the Red Templars away from Sahrnia. An admirable goal, really, except he’d long be dead if not for Imshael’s explicit orders forbidding to hurt him. If it had been anyone else but Michel pulling these stunts with him, they quickly would have found themselves in a ditch. But his special treatment stops at that – Imshael isn’t going to let him sabotage his work any longer.

Imshael stops at some distance from Michel at first, just to make sure he is alone. When in Sahrnia, some peasant is always fretting over the dear chevalier, their own personal hero, so it doesn’t hurt to be careful. A few minutes pass like that, with Imshael watching Michel walk around until he is sure no one else is there. Then as the chevalier turns his back on him and starts in the direction of Sahrnia, he hurries after him. He is only a few steps behind Michel when he speaks to catch his attention.

“Killing my pets now, chevalier?”

Michel whips around at that, obviously caught off guard, and raises his sword at Imshael as he takes on a fighting stance.

“Demon!” he hisses but doesn’t say anything else. Imshael rolls his eyes.

“At this point I’m not even gracing that with a correction” he says as he starts circling the chevalier. “But really, Michel, I’m so disappointed. You sneak behind my back and kill a unit of my men along with my pets instead of facing me directly. Where is that famous honor of yours?”

“Long gone, partially thanks to you” Michel snarls and his knuckles are white on the hilt of his sword, he’s gripping it so tightly. “Also, I’m not stupid. You were holed up in Suledin this whole time, surrounded by your men. I wouldn’t attempt a suicide mission.”

“Oh, Michel, I adore how you still don’t understand the way demons work. The way I behave” Imshael laughs at that, tilting his head to the side in amusement. “I wasn’t ‘holed up’ in the Keep all this time, I was out and about quite a lot. I’m a busy man, you see.”

Michel’s eyes widen at his choice of words, which he is pleased to see.

“I was also keeping my eyes on you the whole time, you see. You managed to fool my patrols so many times that I couldn’t trust them to keep you under control” he continues, moving closer to Michel as he keeps circling around him. “I’ve seen the way you were playing hero for that dirty little village, trying to help them not starve, and get back their men, even. Anything to keep your mind busy, so you wouldn’t have to think of your true desires.”

“What do you know about my true desires?” Michel asks with a frown and he doesn’t even notice that he has lowered his sword, letting Imshael get closer to him.

“A lot more than you’d prefer me to” Imshael smirks and looks deep into Michel’s eyes. “I, of course, know that you want to go back to your old life, to being the Empress’s champion, but even a fool would know that. I also know that you want to take revenge on Celene’s pretty elf for tricking you” he says as he walks behind Michel, and now he is close enough to trail a hand down his arm. Surprisingly, Michel doesn’t really react, other than gripping his lowered sword tightly. “And I know that you dream of everyday life amongst your comrades, your life in court, the debauchery of soldiers” he lowers his voice as he stops in front of the chevalier, looking into his eyes again – he wants to see his reaction to his words. “You dream of old lovers, like that attractive little servant girl you sneaked out of the palace for some fun… And new ones you have yet to admit to yourself you desire.”

“You’re guessing” Michel says, trying to sound firm and failing. “I’m alone and you’re just trying to use that.”

“Oh, of course I’m trying to use it” Imshael smiles at that, and puts a hand on the front of Michel’s chestplate, stroking it along to his shoulder as he once again goes to stand behind the chevalier. “But that doesn’t mean I’m guessing. Wouldn’t you want your dream to come true?” Imshael whispers into Michel’s ear, as he brings his hands to his biceps, caressing his arms.

“My dream- How do you know about that?” Michel asks, his cheeks heating up at the memory, and Imshael can’t help the self-satisfied grin that forms on his lips.

“Oh, but who do you think helped you reveal your true desire?” he cooes, letting his lips just barely brush against Michel’s ear, and enjoys the shiver that runs through the man at that, making his sword fall from his grip. His hands travel over his shoulders and onto his sides where he can touch the man under the armor. “You’re not _nearly_ clever enough to figure that out, no. So I came to you and gave you a- _helping hand_ , so to say.”

Michel’s cheeks darken at that, and Imshael laughs, then lets his hands slowly move down to his hips. He can feel Michel tense now that his arms are completely around him, and his knuckles are white, he’s clenching his fists so tight. Indecision oozes from his every pore, lust and self-loathing are coming off him in strong waves, and Imshael has never enjoyed anything more.

“Come on, Michel, contrary to what you might believe, I don’t have all eternity to wait for your answer” Imshael says with a pout, and withdraws his hands from Michel’s hips, careful to trail his fingers over his hipbones as he does so. Michel starts to unconsciously turn around to chase Imshael’s touch, but he can practically see the moment the chevalier’s mind catches up and he abruptly stops.

“I don’t… want that” Michel says but the words are forced out of his mouth painfully, and by the Maker is his conscience annoying. Imshael all but rolls his eyes as he walks around the man, arms crossed and one hand under his chin as he leans in close, their lips just shy of touching, and looks into his eyes.

“Say that again, and I’ll leave. But make it convincing” he says in a low voice and arches an elegant eyebrow.

For a moment, he truly believes that Michel will resist and a wave of disappointment washes over him as he steps back. But then, in the fraction of a moment, Michel is on him – arms around his waist, their noses gently brushing together before Michel finds the perfect angle, and then impatient lips are brought against his hungrily. Imshael is _delighted_.

They are out in the open though, where anyone could see them should they happen to walk this way. They definitely need somewhere more secluded. He breaks away from the kiss and looks around quickly, spotting one of the abandoned buildings in the area. It has standing walls and a roof – perfect for their purposes.

“Hold on tightly, Michel” he says as a warning, and even though the confusion is evident on the human’s face, he feels the arms around his waist tighten. He then taps into the Fade and takes them inside the house with a quick Fade step. Michel looks disoriented for a moment, but he quickly seems to realize the purpose of his actions. Imshael smiles and leans in again. “Now, where were we?”

Michel wastes no time in kissing him again – chevaliers are, after all, nothing if not practical. Imshael returns it with equal enthusiasm, and his arms snake around Michel’s neck, with one hand diving into the blond locks to keep Michel close. Imshael feels Michel’s hands settle on his hips, gentle but possessive as the chevalier keeps him close. That stupid chestplate is between them though, and it would be utterly too cold if Imshael were a human. Still, it’s a barrier and bothers him, so Imshael starts unclasping the buckles with his free hand. It doesn’t go as fast as he’d like, but he also doesn’t want to let go of Michel any longer than strictly necessary – which is only to let the chevalier breath.

As the chestplate falls away, Michel drags him closer, his hands slipping under Imshael’s coat, eager to touch. His lips travel down Imshael’s neck, covering his skin in kisses, and a hand drags Imshael’s shirt out of his way. Imshael throws his head back and lets himself enjoy.

But then Michel pushes him against the wall, hands once again holding his hips firmly as Michel kisses his lips again. His movements are so confident and his lips so insistent, so demanding, he has to put a stop to it.

With one move, Imshael turns them around, so it’s Michel flat against a wall, holding his arms against it by the wrist, and gives him a disapproving look.

“Now, now” he starts in a low voice. “Who said you get to control?”

Oh, that does unexpected wonders to Michel. Imshael can feel his arousal through their clothing, can see the flush on Michel’s cheeks, and his light gray eyes darken into a storm. Teeth bite into lips to keep a moan from escaping, so Imshael leans to Michel’s neck to scrape his teeth lightly against the skin to coax it out, his hands trailing down to his hold his hips. Michel doesn’t disappoint him – he makes the most delicious sound.

Imshael could tease Michel all day, see how undone he can get him without taking his clothes off and barely any touching, but Michel is so human, so impatient, he is already dragging the coat off Imshael’s shoulders. It’s not exactly that Imshael protests, but once the coat is off, he again catches Michel’s hands and pushes his hands back against the wall.

“Didn’t I tell you not to do that?” he whispers, looking into Michel’s eyes, and the chevalier nods. “Good. You’re a soldier, you of all people should know how to listen to orders.”

Michel frowns at that but doesn’t protest. Imshael smirks, then lets go of his hands to peel the doublet off him. Under that, he is wearing a loose white undershirt that Imshael also quickly sends to the floor. Michel’s revealed chest is as perfect as humans can get, the few long, white scars, marks of his life as a chevalier, only making it more appealing, and Imshael trails his hands down the human’s sides to feel the smooth skin under his fingertips. 

Then he leans to Michel’s neck, grazing the skin with his teeth before he bites – not strong enough to hurt, just to elicit a needy moan in response. His hands move to the front of Michel’s pants and start undoing the lacing of it. Michel is already half-hard, so Imshael makes the movements of his hands deliberately slower, his fingers brush against the fabric more than necessary, but he gets the reaction he wanted – Michel stifles a moan as his penis springs to full attention, and grabs onto Imshael’s shoulders to hold himself upright.

Imshael smirks as he yanks Michel’s pants and underwear down, letting them fall to the floor and pool around Michel’s ankle.

“Eager?” he asks in a low, husky voice as he nuzzles against Michel’s neck and his hand strokes his cock.

“Maker, yes” Michel whispers as he throws his head back and closes his eyes.

Imshael smirks again, then bites the soft porcelain skin hard, just like he has done in the Fade, but now the mark is definitely staying there. Michel hisses and his grips gets tighter on his shoulder but doesn’t protest at all.

“Turn around” Imshael commands, and Michel opens his eyes, looking at him for a second, then nods and obediently moves to face the wall, his palms flat against the cold surface to brace himself. Imshael leans to his ear, his hands on the chevalier’s hips. “Good boy.”

He brings a hand to Michel’s back, trailing the tip of his fingers up the curve of his spine, then back down again, where his hand slides down the curve of his ass. Michel sucks in a breath loudly and shivers.

“Don’t worry, Michel” Imshael purrs into his ear as he withdraws the hand from Michel’s backside, reaching inside a pocket of his coat. “I know my way with humans, I didn’t come unprepared.”

He holds out the vial of oil for Michel to see.

“You made your choice, Michel, I’d gain nothing by hurting you now. And in case you haven’t noticed, I prefer peaceful solutions. You people are so quick to jump to violent conclusions” he shakes his head with a sigh and pours some oil on his fingers.

“I’m not the demon here. And you’ve tricked me before” Michel grumbles but doesn’t move from his position and doesn’t protest.

“Well, yes, but that wasn’t exactly my fault, now, was it?” Imshael shrugs, positioning his fingers at Michel’s entrance, and pushes in one finger.

Michel lets out a small, stifled noise at that and doesn’t answer – probably can’t, Imshael thinks to himself with a smile. He waits until Michel’s breaths even, then starts moving his finger gently. He keeps this up until Michel starts moaning in a very obviously pleasured way, then adds the next. He prepares Michel thoroughly, keeping his fingers moving until he is trembling with want and biting his hand to keep himself from crying out loud.

Imshael withdraws his hand and starts unlacing his own pants.

“Do you think you’re ready, Michel?” he purrs into his ears and presses a kiss onto his neck.

“Maker, yes…” Michel pants, turning his head to look at Imshael, and leans forward to kiss him.

Imshael meets him halfway, capturing his lips in his eagerly, but doesn’t stop preparing himself, coating his own penis in the rest of the oil. Then he places his hand on Michel’s abdomen, holding him firmly as he enters him. Michel moans into the kiss and pulls away, leaning his head against the wall as he is gasping for air. Imshael enters him fully and waits, pressing kisses onto the chevalier’s shoulder.

“You can move now” Michel breathes finally, and for once, Imshael happily obeys.

As he starts moving, Imshael can feel the waves of pleasure coming off Michel with confusion still there. It’s delicious, and combined with the stifled moans he is letting out, it’s only adding to the physical pleasure. He is paying attention to the way Michel reacts to his movements, angling his hips and picking up the pace, using the louder and more frequent noises from the human as indication. He wants to reduce Michel to a mess in the most pleasurable way, wants Michel to crave him.

Suddenly, he feels a wave of guilt coming off Michel – and it angers him. Yes, guilt is inevitably a feeling Michel is going to have, but not now, not yet.

“Don’t” Imshael says harshly, his hand gripping at Michel’s hair firmly and pulls his head back, making him hiss at the pain. “You can be sorry for yourself all you want _later_ , and I’ll enjoy your delicious repentance, but not now” he eases his hold on Michel’s hair and bites his neck gently. “Now just pay attention to me and enjoy. Understood?”

“Yes” Michel says instantly, his voice breathy and chest heaving.

Imshael lets go of his hair and instead slides his hand to Michel’s muscular chest, his other hand still gripping his hip, as he starts thrusting again. Michel is moving back against him, too, and his movements are now becoming off-rhythm, more frantic. Imshael sees him clawing at the wall, with moans now freely escaping him, and finally, he throws his head back as he is tipped over the edge, tensing and then going very still against Imshael as his orgasm runs through his body. Michel’s pleasure hits Imshael like a surge as he keeps chasing his own end. It doesn’t take him long to reach completion, either. 

After his head clears, Imshael steps away from the still panting Michel and reaches into his pocket for a handkerchief. He quickly cleans himself, then pulls up his underwear and pants, fixing his clothing. Done with that, he moves next to Michel, and with placing a hand on his hips, helps the human clean up, too. Michel looks at him, his breathing now calmed but cheeks still flushed, and his expression is a mix of emotions, but he finally gives Imshael a smile of gratitude.

Imshael steps back and throws the soiled handkerchief into the air, incinerating it before it reaches the ground.

“Next time you’re bored, instead of sabotaging my work, just call me and we can have a little fun” Imshael smirks at Michel smugly, who has started dressing, too, and is now dragging his pants back on. “This was only the tip of the iceberg. I can make you feel pleasures you can’t even begin to imagine.”

And it’s true – fucking Michel against the wall wasn’t a bad start, but he has so many other plans for the pretty little chevalier.

“If I leave you to be so busy with your ‘work’, how would you even have time for that?” Michel raises his eyebrows as he tucks his undershirts bottom into the waist of his pants.

“Oh, I’ll always make time for you. There’s no need to worry” Imshael smirks and walks closer to Michel.

“But where would be the _fun_ in that?” Michel asks and he is actually smirking back at Imshael with challenge in his eyes, and he just can’t resist that. He leans forward to kiss him, and Michel returns it eagerly, his lips soft against his.

“I knew I made the right choice at that Dalish camp the moment I’ve seen you” Imshael whispers against his lips. “You have only proved me right.”

Michel laughs and Imshael steps away from him for the final time, starting to walk back towards Suledin Keep. His time in the Emprise is going to be so much better than he originally thought.


End file.
